I Am The One
by IsThereAnyNameNotTaken
Summary: This is a story all about Maxon and America's married life. Follow them as they deal with heartbreak and loss but also love and happiness. As King and Queen, husband and wife, what will Maxerica do next?
1. Chapter 1

America's POV

"Deep breaths, America," Marlee coached. "That's it. Breathe in. Breathe out. You'll be fine. You look absolutely stunning."

Despite Marlee's calming words, I couldn't seem to get my hands to stop shaking. "What if I trip while I'm walking down the aisle? What if Maxon changes his mind about me? What if the rings get lost?"

At that, my sister May spoke up. "First, you won't trip while you're walking down the aisle because Aspen will be walking with you, and we all know that that man has a grip of steel." She was right; he did. "Second, Maxon would never change his mind about you. Ever. Anyone with eyes can see that he's completely and totally whipped." I, along with the rest of my bridal party, couldn't help but laugh. It did wonders for my nerves. "Third, where's the trust, dear sister? I'll be the best ring bearer there ever was!"

I sighed. May was right. I had nothing to be worried about. There were no doubts in my mind that Maxon was it for me, but with all the guests watching and the cameras and the coronation immediately after...I guess I was just a little bit overwhelmed.

"America," my mother said. She walked over and grasped both of my hands. "Your father would be so proud of you right now. If he could be here with us today..."

"I know, Mom, I know," was all I said as I crushed her into a hug. Without knowing it, a few tears escaped my eyes. Obviously, Lucy and Mary weren't having any of that.

"Miss America, you'll ruin your makeup!" they chorused. I found it endearing how they still called me "Miss" or "Lady" even after we had gotten so close these past few months. Soon, they'd be calling me "Queen."

"Don't worry, girls, I wouldn't dare go back on all of that hard work you spent making me pretty," I teased.

Before Lucy and Mary could respond, Aspen knocked on the door, opened it, and peeked his head through. His eyes instantly found Lucy's, and I felt like we were all intruding on a private moment between the two as they simply stared at each other and smiled.

Moments passed. May cleared her throat. "So, is it show time?" she asked Aspen.

"Indeed it is. My Queen," he replied, extending his arm to me. I stood up, checked my hair and makeup in the mirror one last time, and gratefully held onto his arm.

"I'm not your Queen yet, Aspen," I said.

"But you will be shortly," he retorted.

I couldn't argue with that.

* * *

"Alright, everyone. Lady Georgia and Sir August will walk in first, followed by Lady May and Sir Gerad, then Lady Kenna and Sir James, Lady Marlee and Officer Woodwork, and finally Officer Leger and Lady America. Any questions?" Silvia asked. After a brief silence, she murmured her approval and directed the first of us in, just as the music started playing.

"How nervous are you? On a scale of one to ten?" Aspen whispered down to me. I smiled. He still knew me so well. After Maxon found out about what we did during the Selection, I was worried that I had lost the both of them for good. Surprisingly, now Aspen was one of my soon-to-be husband's best friends, and mine as well.

"Nine," I replied. The butterflies in my stomach were relentless. They just wouldn't settle down. Still, as long as Maxon was waiting there for me at the altar, all would be well.

"Lady America, it's your turn," Silvia said. The butterflies increased tenfold. My grip on Aspen's arm tightened.

"Ready?" he asked. I nodded. I couldn't speak; there was already an enormous lump in my throat. The doors opened.

And there he was.

Just minutes before in my bridal suite, I was worried sick about the cameras and the people and the overall lack of privacy. Of course, there were still bright flashes aimed at me from all directions. There were still hundreds of people sitting in the crowd, most of whom I didn't recognize. But all of that faded away until it felt like it was just Maxon and I in the room, in the whole entire universe even. Suddenly, I couldn't get to him fast enough, and I was seriously questioning my decision to wear heels. If I could've, I would've run down that aisle and collapsed straight into Maxon's arms.

An eternity later, we finally arrived at the altar. Maxon's giddy smile matched my own. I hardly noticed as Aspen lifted my hand away from him until it was placed into Maxon's open palm. I was lost in those eyes, those warm, chocolatey brown eyes that I loved so much. They conveyed to me every emotion, every thought, every feeling that Maxon was having right now. I couldn't be happier.

Honestly, I can't recall much of the ceremony itself. We remained in our own world until it was time for us to present our vows.

"My America," Maxon started. This wasn't good. He had barely gotten two words out and already I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Maxon lovingly wiped them away and continued. "I will never forget our first meeting." I laughed. Neither will I. "The minute I saw you, I was already breaking so many rules. I wasn't supposed to see any of the Selected girls until the next day, but I didn't care. Something about you drew me in, and has kept me hooked ever since. I know being together hasn't been easy. But I'm so glad we both decided to fight for true love when we saw it, because if we hadn't, I wouldn't be standing here right now with the most beautiful, caring, loving, strong, inspiring, tenacious, intelligent, and _stubborn_ woman I have ever met." A few chuckles arose from the crowd. I urged Maxon to go on with my eyes. "My America, I know I've asked for a lot." His eyes look pained. "I know we've had our rough patches. I'm deeply sorry about that. Nevertheless, you have quickly become my rock, my anchor, and the person that I turn to the most in just a few months' time. I wouldn't and couldn't have been satisfied with anyone else. I promise to show you every day for as long as I live just how much you mean to me. Not a day will pass by where you don't feel loved and cared for. I will never take you for granted. I would die for you. I would do anything for you, and I'm so thankful that it's you I'm celebrating the first day of the rest of my life with. I love you to the moon and back, my dear."

I giggled and hiccuped through my tears as I brought Maxon's hand up to my lips and kissed his knuckles. I didn't even mind that he had called me "my dear." For today, I would let the nickname slide. Now it was my turn.

"My Maxon," I started. "I've never been good with words or with expressing my feelings aloud, as I'm sure you're well aware of." There was a knowing glint behind Maxon's eyes. "Still, as I was writing my vows, I surprised myself by just how much I wanted to write and get down on the paper. Sometimes you don't realize this, Maxon, but you are the epitome of all things good. You bring me strawberry tarts and jeans and you treat me with so much more kindness than I deserve. You wiggled your way into my heart, and there you will stay all day, every day for the rest of my life. I feel so blessed that I am able to call you mine, because I know that the journey leading up to this point was rocky and, at times, it seemed impossible. I can't wait to laugh with you, start a family with you, and love you will all of my being and soul. I can't imagine my life without you anymore." Did I see tears forming in the corners of Maxon's eyes? "I believed that I was happy before I met you. I thought that I had everything I needed and wanted. I was wrong. My home is now wherever you are, and I don't think I could have placed it in better hands. I have faith that you will be the best husband, friend, lover, and king that I and this country have ever asked for."

When I was finished, Maxon mouthed the words "I love you." I'm sure my face was splotchy and red, but in that moment, I had never felt so beautiful. I felt infinite. I felt complete.

The rest of the ceremony passed by in a blur. I got Maxon a simple gold wedding band. He got me a gold ring as well, but atop of it rested the most radiant ruby that I had ever seen. After exchanging rings, every fiber of my being was itching to move and kiss him, but I would have to wait for a moment longer. The air felt charged and electric. Intimate.

Finally, _finally..._

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!"

Thunderous cheers and applause erupted from the audience. I'd be willing to bet that half of that noise came from our close circle of friends and family alone. None of that mattered to me right now, though. Here in Maxon's arms, with his lips pressed against mine and our breaths, our bodies, molding into one, all sound was drowned out. I couldn't tell where I began and where he ended. I loved it. I loved him.

* * *

 **Author's Note: First chapter is up! I hope you guys enjoy. I can't promise I'll have a set updating schedule but I'll try to post as often as I can.**


	2. Chapter 2

Maxon's POV

America and I broke apart after a short, but passionate, kiss. After all, there were several foreign dignitaries and monarchs present in the room, and rules of propriety kept me from devouring America right then and there. She looked so beautiful, so radiant. She was positively glowing with happiness, as was I. All I really wanted to do in this moment was sweep my wife up into my arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. I wanted to explore every crevice of her lovely mouth and run my hands down the curves of her body. Alas, I couldn't do that. Not yet, anyway.

I settled for wrapping an arm around America's waist and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. I pulled her close and whispered into her ear, "I love you, America Schreave." I felt, rather than saw, a shiver running down her back.

Now that we were officially married, America could be sworn in as Queen of Illea. I had already assumed my position as King a few months before, after that tragic rebel attack that left my father dead. A country without a King just wouldn't do, so I had stepped up and accepted those responsibilities mere days after the attack. America, on the other hand, couldn't be sworn in until she became my wife.

The officiator of our wedding ceremony stepped forward and gestured with his hands for everyone to quiet down. The coronation was about to begin, but there was something that I had to do first.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up and said, "If everyone could turn their attention to me, please, before we proceed with the second ceremony of the night."

America shifted in my arms until she, too, was staring at me. She looked so cute when she was confused. I had mentioned nothing of this to her in the days leading up to our wedding, as I thought this would be a nice surprise for her. I caressed the soft skin of her cheek, letting her know that what I was about to say wasn't bad. I continued.

"If you can't already tell, marrying America was and is one of the best decisions of my life. I am truly the luckiest man in the world right now. Even so, though I know this is supposed to be a joyous occasion, I'd like for all of us to acknowledge those who, sadly, couldn't be here with us today."

America gasped and covered her mouth with the hand that wasn't encased in mine. I knew that her father's absence bothered her more than she let on, so this was only appropriate. I gestured to Silvia, who was aware of what I was doing since I had let her in on my plans yesterday. She brought up a small table with four unlit candles and a lighter resting atop of it. I thanked her and started talking again.

"Each candle here represents someone dear to us who has since passed and has moved on to a better place." As I lighted the first three candles from left to right, I named my father Clarkson, my mother Amberley, and one of the Selected, Celeste. By now, America's tears were freely flowing again. Knowing that she knew who the last candle was for, I passed the lighter to her.

Her voice, quiet but strong, announced, "This last candle is for my father, Shalom Singer." Her hand was shaking so much that I had to hold her steady as the candle was brought to life. Without words, I knew how grateful America was for my little presentation. Her tears slowly subsided. After a minute or so of silence, I gave the officiator the okay to begin with the coronation. Slowly, I stepped away from America and sat in my throne.

On his signal, trumpets blared and guards burst through the doors, holding America's scepter and crown, which rested upon a small black velvet pillow. They made their way down the aisle and towards us, stopping a few feet from the raised platform.

The officiator stated, "As Queen of Illea, the fate of our beloved country rests partly upon your hands. Do you, America Schreave, promise to serve our country by putting its needs first and foremost, even before your own?"

America steadily replied, "I promise." I didn't think it was possible to fall in love with her even more, but I guess this moment just proved me wrong.

"As Queen of Illea, you will be tasked with burdens and responsibilities that require poise, grace, and careful consideration. Do you, America Schreave, promise to carry out this duty so that Illea may prosper and flourish under your rule?"

"I promise."

"Very well," the officiator said. The guard holding America's scepter stepped up at this point, and gently placed the staff into her waiting hand. She gripped it firmly before the officiator spoke up again. "This scepter represents the power and control you will soon possess as future Queen of Illea. Let it always remind you that power of this degree should never be abused and should only be used for the greater good." Next, the guard holding the crown kneeled before America. The officiator delicately placed the crown on top of America's head and explained, "This crown represents the weight of the world resting upon your shoulders. Let it always remind you to think before you act and use your head when making informed decisions regarding Illea's future. With that being said, America Schreave, are you, ready to become Illea's next Queen?"

Even though I knew America would never say no, I still found myself holding my breath. A quick glance around the room revealed that many others were doing the same.

Drawing in a deep breath, America voiced, "Yes, I am ready."

I made my way over to my wife and, now, my queen. Hand in hand, we faced our audience as chants of "Long live the queen" were repeated over and over. We both smiled.

* * *

"Maxon," America breathed. We were currently in her bridal suite, enjoying a few stolen moments to ourselves before we had to go down to the ballroom for our wedding reception and party. I had her back pressed up against the wall, and I was finally able to kiss her the way I had wanted to before now that no one was watching. Well...next to no one.

"The guards," America weakly protested. One look into her icy blue eyes told me that she didn't really want me to stop with my advances, but at the same time, she was slightly uncomfortable knowing we were being watched.

"Don't worry, my dear," I replied. She made a face at her pet name. "I asked some of the guards to go ahead and join the reception downstairs. There are only two with us right now, and they're giving us as much privacy as they possibly can." I kissed America's lips, chin, and neck, making my way down her body until I reached her collarbones. There, I nibbled and sucked on her supple skin. She left out a soft moan and threw her head back against the wall.

"F-fine," she acquiesced. I smiled and nuzzled my head into her neck, continuing to shower and pepper her with kisses. America wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pressed myself closer to her delicious heat, groaning when I came into contact with her hot core. America's hands cupped my face as she brought me in for another kiss. She softly bit my bottom lip, causing me to moan. She was such a tease. Our tongues battled for control and dominance until I finally caved in, letting America do what she wanted with me. In her vigor, she started slipping down the wall, so I grabbed her bare thighs with both of my hands to keep her in place. We broke apart for a second to catch our breaths. We were both panting, and America took her time unbuttoning the top few buttons of my shirt. I reached behind her to unzip her dress. As beautiful as she looked in it, I knew that she would look even better with it off and on the ground.

My shirt was already open and America's zipper was halfway down her back when we both heard the thud and the pained gasp. We froze. I gently unwrapped America's legs from my body and helped her to stand, all the while pushing her back against the wall and shielding her with my body to protect her from any harm. A second thud, followed by a second cry of pain. America clutched my hand. She was shaking.

"Well, well, well," a voice said. It was scratchy and raspy, and could be heard from the shadows. The person the voice belonged to emerged from the darkness, and to my horror, was holding a gun. America whimpered. I drew circles on her hand with my thumb to try and soothe her, but even I couldn't deny the danger that we were in.

" _Oh_ , _Maxon_ ," the rebel mocked. " _Make love to me_ , _Maxon_. _I love you_ ," he taunted.

"What do you want from us?" I cautiously asked. There was no way America and I could run out of here, as the rebel was blocking the one and only exit, but maybe we could strike up a deal and he would let us go.

"What do I want from you?" he repeated. "Hmmm, let's see...I want you dead. Was that what you wanted to hear, _Your Majesty_?"

Behind me, America spoke up indignantly. "When our guards find you, and they inevitably will, you will be executed and tortured for treason and attempted assassination of the Ki—"

The rebel interrupted her by laughing. "What guards?" he asked, gesturing around. "If you haven't noticed, I already took out the two guards that were stationed outside this room. And all the others, I presume, are downstairs partying?" He raised an eyebrow.

No. No, no, no, no, no. This was all my fault. I was the one who told the guards to leave. How could I be so stupid? America was now curling into herself from fear. I squeezed her hand, silently urging her to stay with me and stay alert.

"Look, _Maxon_ , we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either I take you two lovebirds right now or I could just tell my colleagues to crash that reception downstairs. I'm sure they would _love_ to meet all of your family and friends," the rebel smirked.

I exchanged glances with America. She seemed to be thinking a little more clearly, at least. We both knew that we couldn't let the rebels hurt any of our loved ones, but at the same time, we were now the King and Queen of Illea. We had to stay safe.

The rebel sighed. "You guys take too long," he said. Suddenly, he lunged at us, but instead of pulling the trigger of his gun like I thought he would, he pressed dirty cloths into our faces. The smell that surrounded me was pungent and dizzying. Slowly, my vision started deteriorating and my hand slipped from America's. As the darkness started to take over me and my head hit the floor, a single thought kept replaying in my mind like a mantra, over and over. _I'm sorry, America. Forgive me, my dear._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please don't hate me! I just thought it was time for some action, ya know? Next chapter will (hopefully) be up within the next week. Thanks!**


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